My name is Harry. I am 8 years old. My family hates me. I do what they want. But it isn't ever enough. My uncle comes home from work and yells at me. I can smell the alcohol on his breath. I try to stay away from him but he calls for me. I try to get away from him, but he grabs my arm as I run for the door. He throws me into a wall. I can hear him taking off his belt as I lay face down on the floor. He hits me with it until I can yell no longer. My name is Harry.

Tonight my family murdered me.